Quicksilver
by Wolfsbane868
Summary: Silver is a fourteen year old girl forced to cover up her true self and her past. Yet, as she starts to make a name for herself as a vigilante and attracts the attention of the Justice League and Young Justice, as well as the Light, she starts to realize that she may have to face them - and her past - to truly live up to her potential. Takes place after Season 1 of Young Justice.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Just a few things. Some of the characters in this story will be characters that are in DC Comics, but have not appeared in Young Justice. If you need info on any characters in this story that you don't know, I suggest you go to **** wiki/Main_Page** **or **** characters****. I don't think that I'll be pairing my OC, but if you have any suggestions for a pairing, let me know. **

_Italics - flashback_

"_Conversation in Italics" - Someone talking in a flashback or Mental Link_

**Now for the disclaimer:**

**I don't own Young Justice or DC Comics.**

_She was scared. It was cold and dark and she was scared, more than she'd ever been in her life. _

_She didn't know what was going on. When everything had been planned out at first, she knew what was going on. Her and Aurum were going to wait until one of the scientists, Doctor Rayne, came. Most of the scientists were mean, but he wasn't. He was nice and he wanted to get them out of here. He would take them out of their pods and pretend to take them to a test. When they got to the elevator, he would use a needle to - what was the word? - tranquilize the guard with them and they would go to the top floor. Her and Aurum would get dressed in scientist clothes and they would walk out of the lab with Doctor Rayne. Then they would leave the city and go far, far away, where there would be no more tests or experiments or punishments, and they would get new names and they would live in peace and be happy. _

_That was how it was supposed to go. _

_But something went wrong. The guard had seen the needle when Rayne was going to stab him with it and had attacked the Doctor. Aurum had grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the elevator, and they had gotten inside and Aurum had pressed the button with a one on it. The doors were closing and the guard saw them, and he had pulled out a gun and shot it several times at them. Most of the bullets had missed, but one had hit her in the shoulder and she had screamed from the pain. It had been worse than all the times she had been punished for doing a test wrong, when they had taken a gun with what looked like lightning sparking in a nonexistent barrel and touched her with it. It had hurt so, so bad, and she couldn't move, only fall to the ground and scream and beg for them to stop. _

_She later learned that the strange gun with the electricity was called a taser, and that it was typically used on criminals and bad people. She wondered why they thought she was one of these bad people, and why they had laughed when she had screamed._

_Aurum had tried to help her, and had gotten the bullet out, but there had been blood covering the bullet, and there was blood coming out of her shoulder and had stained the white suit the scientists had forced her to wear with a deep, rich red. Her shoulder had hurt, hurt like it was being stabbed over and over again, and she had cried and cried until her suit was soaked with her tears too. Aurum had picked her up and told her to stop crying, that they still could get out of here, here with its awful tests and punishments, here with the cruel scientists that laughed when she got hurt and poked her and hurt her to learn things, here with the people who forced her to learn things she didn't want to learn, forced her to believe things she didn't want to believe, who forced her to be who she was now. _

_A crying, sniveling ten-year old who depended on her twin brother to help her through the darkness._

_When the elevator door had opened, Aurum had ran out, her in his arms, her weight being little next to nothing due to his super strength. He had carried her through hallways with black floors and white walls, past rooms with people inside who were at computers typing and researching things she didn't know about, and didn't want to know about, because she knew, at the very least, she was in a genetics lab and they researched how to grow things. Things like her and Aurum._

_People, more scientists in lab coats and people wearing what she thought were casual clothes instead of work clothes, had yelled at her and Aurum as they ran by, and they had chased them too, attempting to grab them and slow them down. Not that it would work. Both she and Aurum were faster than normal people, with enhanced speed, agility, and stamina. Aurum had super strength, while she had enhanced reflexes. Her brother had simply plowed down anyone in his path, and that was that. _

_They were going to get out of here. They were going to escape, and they were going to escape today._

_Finally, her brother had seen a window and had crashed through it instead of finding a door. They had fallen a short ways before crashing into the ground, into hard concrete and asphalt. The impact had jarred her injured shoulder, and she had nearly cried out. But she couldn't, not when freedom was so close and any noise could help the scientists and their guards find them. _

_Aurum had picked her up again and started to run, run through the dark streets to who knows where, through the alleyways of a city they didn't know. _

_All they knew was they had to escape, and that once they were a good distance away from the lab - the only place they had ever known for the past ten years of their lives - they could never, ever go back._

_Not when the price of freedom was so high._


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note - To those who did, thanks for reviewing! I didn't expect to get the reviews I did. Sorry the links to those websites didn't work. I'll try to get them to work again on the next update. **

_Italics - Flashback_

"_Conversation in Italics" - Someone talking in a flashback or mental link._

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own DC Comics or Young Justice.**

Silver opened her eyes to a dark room.

For a second, she just lay there, letting the silence seep into her skin and, in a way, protect her. Eventually, she closed her eyes, letting out a deep, shaky sigh that belied her years.

The dream - more of a nightmare and a memory combined - had haunted her sleep for the past four years. The escape from the genetics lab - which she later learned was called CADMUS after she hacked several mainframes and files she wasn't technically even supposed to know about - was only the tip of the iceberg in a series of nightmares, all pertaining to two things. CADMUS and her brother.

Her brother.

Silver banished the thought of Aurum from her mind. The nightmares already came frequently enough, and she had no interest in bringing them into the light of day where she actually could think on them. She had thought on them long enough in the first three months on her own.

Slowly, Silver sat up in bed, groaning at her aching limbs, which, like always, had locked up during her nightmare. She tugged the cord to the lamp on her nightstand. The small bedroom was lit in a soft amber glow that illuminated the pale blue walls and a white ceiling that Silver had never gotten around to painting. A small desk and a dresser were squashed into the tiny room alongside the bed and nightstand, leaving the fourteen-year old little space to maneuver into the living room or the bathroom.

Silver quietly made her way into the bathroom, and, for a moment, stared at her reflection. It was the one thing that she ever took time to pay attention to, as she rarely ever saw her true self anymore. What people saw when she was out and about and working, they saw a teenager with straight brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and soft brown eyes that somehow managed to glow like fallen stars. But there was so much more to her than that.

Behind the hair dye and the contacts, a person could mistake Silver for an angel, or perhaps even a goddess. Pure white hair, the color of freshly fallen snow, cascaded down her back, each hair impossibly straight as if she'd been using a hair straightener all night. Her face was practically flawless - though the rest of her body could not say the same - and she seemed to glow. But if anything would catch a person's attention, it was the eyes that hid behind the dull brown contacts she wore almost constantly. One eye was a gleaming silver that seemed to shine like the moon, the other a glinting amethyst that shone of mystery and power. Both eyes danced with age and sorrow, age they shouldn't be at yet, pain they weren't supposed to know.

Silver turned away from her reflection and turned on the shower, stripping in a silence that many would consider uncanny. She plunged into the steaming water with a vengeance, letting the heat wash the remains of her dream down the drain and out of sight. She couldn't dwell on the past for too long. It hurt too much.

After her impromptu shower, Silver dyed her hair, put in her contacts, dressed, and slipped into her living room. Her apartment was fairly small, with a bedroom, bathroom, and a combination between a living room, kitchen, and dining room. Most people would have turned up their nose at such a small apartment, but Silver had snapped it up immediately. She'd been looking for an inexpensive home for weeks at the time and she didn't like with anyone else, so she had no problem with the apartment's size. In the living room/kitchen/dining room, there were two chairs, a coffee table, a television and a stand for it, a desk, and two bookcases that overflowed with books that Silver had read at least once.

Silver grabbed a jacket that was laying on one of the chairs and a purse that was lying on the coffee table. She didn't have time to eat breakfast, as her job shift at a nearby cafe started fairly soon and she typically ended up having breakfast there with Marcella, one of her coworkers who had convinced the cafe owner to hire her in the first place. With a final look around her apartment to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, Silver closed the door behind her and locked it. In Gotham, there was no such thing as safety and simply thinking that you were was akin to a hospital stay or a death sentence.

As Silver walked down the hall towards the stairs, she heard heavy footsteps come up from behind her. She gritted her teeth. Why was he so interested in her?

"'Lo, babe." A hand landed on her shoulder and slowly squeezed it. Silver gritted her teeth. "Trent, get your hand off my shoulder or I promise you, I will flip you over my shoulder and down the stairs." The idiot was probably going to ignore her. He typically did.

"Oh, come on babe, that's harsh. You know you love me." She'd called it. Unfortunately for her, she was going to be late for work unless he left her alone. Which he was definitely not going to do.

"Listen," Silver stated as she turned around, roughly shoving Trent's hand of her shoulder so she could glare at the black-haired, blue eyed boy. "I am going to be late for work, and you are ticking me off. I am not your 'babe', or your girl, or anything that could be mistaken as love between us. Now, if you don't leave me alone right now, you will regret even coming near me. Clear?"

She didn't even wait for an answer, instead turning on her heel and walking away as fast as she could without running. She cursed when she realized the love-sick brute was following her. Her patience were practically fried already. If he even dared call her some stupid word like babe . . .

"Hey, sweetheart, babe, wait up!" Trent called as he ran after her. With those words, Silver's nerves were shot. Wordlessly, she turned around and judo-flipped the moron onto his back, a sharp crack ringing through the hallways.

"I said I'm not your babe." She hissed to the shocked boy. With those elegant parting words, Silver turned on her heel and stalked down the stairs, fury radiating from every pore in her body. While it might not have been the smartest thing to do, it made her feel much, much happier - and glad that she had chosen to refresh her martial arts a few weeks after arriving in Gotham by joining a small center a few blocks away from her building. There was no denying that judo-flipping annoying boys who thought that they were godsends to women gave her a sort of pleasure. Not to mention that the boys she judo-flipped rarely bothered her again.

Silver was able to leave her apartment building and get outside without any further incident, thank goodness. She would rather not end up having to deal with some other boy while she was walking through the lobby. It was for that exact reason that she had gotten evicted from her apartment while in Star City - though to be fair, him deciding to try and group some parts of her he shouldn't be touching could technically be called a sexual assault.

It was another ten minutes before Silver arrived at the cafe she worked at, called The Wallflower Cafe. She had been lucky to get the job here, more so because of her age. She had been forced to get an ID - falsified, of course - and she had lied about her age in it, as she had no hopes of getting a job and surviving on her own without doing so. Thankfully, she looked old enough to pass as a sixteen-year old and she was a pretty good liar. Silver slipped into the cafe through a side door and hung up her coat and purse.

"Silver! Finally, where have you been? The cafe's opening in a few minutes!"

Silver turned and smiled, a real smile, as she turned to greet one of the few friends she had in Gotham.

"Sorry, Marcella. Some jock in my apartment decided to hit me up."

Marcella nodded as she tossed Silver an apron. "Did you flip him down the stairs?"

"Wish I did. Would've made the message a little clearer."

"Sure would've." Marcella took a look at the clock. "I suggest you head over to the register unless you want to cook everything."

Silver snorted. "Like I can cook. I've burned water before, remember?"

"Still don't know how you did that!" Marcella called out as she went into the kitchen. Silver tied the apron around her waist and walked through the kitchen door to the register to wait for customers. Before long, a steady stream of people were walking into the cafe and Silver was busy ringing up customers left and right.

About an hour later, when business had died down a little from the early morning rush, Silver was checking the news on her iphone when a new customer came in. Rather, two.

Silver looked up to see two customers coming in, one a regular, the other someone she had seen multiple times on television.

"Barbara! Wondering when you'd get here." Silver said, attempting to ignore - or, at least, trying not to stare too much - the kid standing next to Barbara Gordon. "What would you like? Your usual?"

"Of course. And Dick would like . . . um . . ."

"I'll just have a coffee, please." Great. Now there was no way she could ignore/stare at him. She turned to look at the boy standing next to Barbara.

"Barbara?" Silver said. "How did you end up getting a date with Richard Grayson?"

The pair blushed and edged away from each other.

"Um . . ." Started Barbara.

"It's not a date . . ."

"Not like a 'date' date . . ."

"We're just here to talk about a project . . ."

"And, you know, stuff . . ."

"As friends, of course . . ."

Silver raised an eyebrow at the two teens. "You're here 'just to talk about a project and stuff as friends?'"

It was kind of amusing, with how red the pair's cheeks were.

"Yup!"

"Just here to talk about our project."

"As friends."

Silver stared at the two for a moment. "Just here to talk about a project. As friends. Right." She looked around the cafe before leaning in close to the two. "Real quick, in case you come here again to 'talk about a project,'" - cue blushing - "Just be aware that Barbara's dad usually stops by here to pick up a coffee sometime around six to six-thirty. Don't want him to think you're, you know, dating or something . . ."

With that, Silver turned on her heel, leaving the two embarrassed teens behind her as she went to give Marcella their order. She smirked. The pair had probably just come here to talk - she was aware from listening to Barbara that Grayson already had a girlfriend - but she couldn't help but rile them up.

A few minutes later, Silver was handing Barbara her order when she noticed an article in the newspaper that Grayson had mysteriously conjured from nowhere. Fear froze the smile on her face and she quickly replaced it was curiosity. Behind her curious look, fear pumped through her veins.

"What'cha looking at?" Silver said, craning her head to look at the article.

"Huh?" Grayson asked, "Oh, this." He showed her the paper. It only took her one look at the headline to know her fears were confirmed.

Because if the headline, New Vigilante in Gotham? wasn't talking about her, she didn't know what the hell it was talking about.

"New vigilante in Gotham?" Silver repeated, somehow saying the words in a voice that wasn't a whisper. "Huh. Batman's not going to be happy. Someone's stealing his spotlight."

Grayson laughed, and it bothered her more than she would admit. "Please, like Batman is in the spotlight already."

Silver shrugged, hoping the pair didn't sense the fear that was rolling off of her in waves. "True. Anyway, here's your drinks. Hope you enjoy your - uh, 'study date'."

The comment did nothing to dissuade Silver's fear as she turned to walk into the kitchen, her heart pounding like a bass drum.

This was bad. Really bad.

She had hoped to get a little more work done in Gotham before getting hunted for by the Batman. As it was, she had barely done anything as of yet. All she knew were three things.

Batman was looking for her.

If the Batman was looking for her, so was the Justice League.

If the League was involved, then the Light would come after her as well.

And all three of these things boiled down to one thing.

The Secret.

There was one thing for certain. She was in some serious trouble.

**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: First off. Thanks, everyone, who have read my story so far and are keeping up with it! All reviews are welcome and appreciated. **

**Some clarifications. Dick Grayson/Robin and Barbara will be dating in this story. At this point, Dick and Zatanna have broken up, though he hasn't told Barbara yet, and slowly he and Barbara are becoming a couple. Not that they admit it or anything. This story is about six to eight months after the episode ****Auld Acquaintance****. However, the only thing that has changed in that time is that Dick and Zatanna have broken up and the Young Justice Team is older. Other than that, everything is the same. Barbara may become Batgirl in this story, but probably not. **

**Secondly, I'm going to be in Seattle for pretty much all of next week, Monday to Friday, so I may not be able to update. I will attempt to squeeze in one more update before leaving. If I'm unable to update, then I'll write two chapters while in Seattle and post them both when I get back. Anyway, enjoy!**

_Italics - Flashback_

"_Conversation in Italics" - Someone talking in a flashback or mental link._

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own DC Comics or Young Justice.**

Silver returned to her apartment at about four that afternoon, laden with grocery bags. Not for the first time, she wished she had a car so she didn't have to carry so many bags everywhere, but in all truth she really had no need for one. Her house was only several blocks away from a variety of stores and restaurants and having a car would make her feel lazy. Besides, this was Gotham. She would be willing to bet that, if she got a car, it would be stolen within the first week she had bought it.

After dumping the bags on one of the coffee table, Silver slumped into the nearest chair and turned to think about her newest, and quite possibly most dangerous, problem.

The Justice League.

Everywhere she went, they were there. It didn't matter where she went, somehow one of their members always ended up on some sort of mission to wherever she was living and saw the signs of her work in various seedy places. Saw the signs of a mysterious someone that had been coming and going and had cleaned up the city as they came and went. Saw the signs of an unregistered vigilante sneaking around the area and dealing with the various thugs and criminals that polluted the area. As soon as she knew that the Justice League had caught up to her again, she would quietly leave the town or city, never to return.

That was the pattern, and Silver was tempted to follow it once again. And yet . . .

Gotham, despite the presence of the Dark Knight and his protege, the Boy Wonder, despite its threat and the danger it posed to people, was probably the nearest thing she had to a home. She had stayed there for close to three months - for her, a record, as she barely stayed in a town for a little less than two weeks. She had fallen into a rhythm of sorts and, for what felt like the first time, she had friends. If that wasn't pitiful, then she didn't know what pitiful was.

She had a job. She had an apartment which she hadn't abandoned before a month had passed. She was on friendly terms with most of her coworkers and neighbors, minus the annoying teenagers who decided it was a great idea to hit on her. She was improving on her martial arts to the point where she could handle more than just a few common thugs at a time and take on better trained enemies.

She had - not including her nighttime activities - something that resembled a normal life.

But then it lead to the other question.

Was risking the discovery of her identity and the Justice League or the Light finding her worth the risk it would be for her to stay in Gotham?

Silver groaned and slumped back in the chair. She didn't want to answer the question. She didn't want to learn the question's answer. If anything, she wished she could banish the newspaper article about her. Despite the lack of information about what she looked like and what she could do in the article, it definitely had the facts right. Mysterious things happening to various thugs and criminals as they terrorized the civilians at night. Signs of weapons and tools that Batman definitely didn't use. Descriptions from interrogated criminals of a white and silver figure that attacked them with 'skill that rivaled the Batman's.' Silver, despite her paranoia, had laughed at this. She doubted she was as skilled as Batman, and she doubted that any of them had actually seen Batman fight in person.

Either way, if she was leaving, she couldn't leave tonight. There wasn't enough time, and even if she had enough time, the move couldn't be too hasty or mysterious unless she felt like drawing the attention of the authorities.

Silver abruptly got up from her seat and ran to her bedroom. If she wasn't leaving today, she might as well risk going out on patrol.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

A good four hours later, at eight o'clock, when night had tightened its hold on Gotham and villains and criminals spilled out onto the streets to steal from, rape, and harm its citizens, Silver slipped out of her apartment via the window in her bedroom. The hair-dye had been removed, and her hair was now braided. Her suit was a dark silver-grey from the waist down, with boots of the same color. A sash, a darker grey than the bottom part of the suit, was tied around her waist. From the waist up, the suit was white, with a thick grey stripe the same color as the lower half of the suit running up the suit's center and splitting to cover the suit's shoulder pads. White gloves covered her hands. Underneath the exterior of the suit, several layers of kevlar had been painstakingly sewn into the spandex, making the suit reasonably bulletproof. A grey mask with white sockets covered her eyes. On Silver's arms were a pair of wrist grapples, which shot out a silver cord when activated that worked as a grappling hook and a pair of whips.

Silver grinned as she leapt off the rooftop and aimed her grapples at a nearby rooftop. She shot through the air like a silver bullet, landing feet first on a neighboring apartment.

If anything, tonight would at least be a little fun.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

"Please, just - just leave me alone! I'll give you anything, just leave me alone!"

The words were full of fear and desperation. Silver could practically feel the emotions in each word. She swung towards the pleading voice, coming to a stop on the rooftop bordering an alleyway. In the alley, a young woman - probably twenty-four, twenty-five by the looks of her - was being approached by a shady man with a knife and a wicked leer on his face.

Silver scowled, a wicked glower that rivaled the Batman's. This was the fifth raping she'd stopped that night, and was starting to wonder just how many perverts inhabited Gotham. The amount of them was ridiculous. Which was probably why she had no problem physically taking down anyone who decided to flirt with her. With a flick of her wrist, a silver cord shot from her wrist grapple and wrapped itself around the man's ankle. Neither the man nor the woman had time to wonder what was happening before the man was yanked into the air, where he very conveniently met Silver's fist. He landed on the pavement three seconds later, senseless and with a broken jaw.

Silver was already gone before the woman, who was terrified, confused, and utterly relieved all at the same time, had the sense to call the police.

The night, in vigilante terms, had gone well. She had stopped what was now five rapings, seven muggings, three beatings, six attempted murders, and what she thought to be a kidnapping, all in a matter of three hours. Silver was considering whether or not she should head over to Wayne Towers to check for illegal activity when she heard a child's voice cry out into the night.

"Help!"

The cry was brief, and was cut off quickly, but Silver had heard it and couldn't ignore it. Hearing adults cry out for help was bad enough, but a child in their place . . . well, if the child wasn't a runaway, then it was most likely they were kidnapped. She knew that a child, kidnapped and alone, and virtually no chance of surviving in the crime-ridden city.

Silver flew through the air as she headed in the general direction of the cry. Landing on the roof of an abandoned warehouse, Silver froze for a moment as voices filtered through the broken and dusty windows.

"Ugh. 'Ow long did the boss say we'd 'ave to watch 'er?"

"Don't know. Jus' said that he'd take care of 'er parents, and that we'd 'ave our money soon enough."

Quietly, Silver crept to the side of the warehouse roof and peered into the window.

There were five goons and a young girl inside. Three of the goons were sitting around a barrel, chatting quietly, while the other two were standing by the girl. The girl herself couldn't have been for than six or seven, with brown hair and green eyes, and was tied up and gagged in a corner. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was trembling. Occasionally, one of the goons would glare at her, causing her to shake even more and let out a muffled whimper. Out of the five men, only the two that stood by the girl appeared to have guns, though Silver wouldn't be surprised if the other three men had pistols stuffed in their boots or something.

It was obvious that this was a kidnapping of some sort, done for someone of meaning to these goons. They were expecting money for the kidnapping and they spoke about their boss dealing with the child's parents, so someone was figuring out a ransom amount with the kid's parents, who were probably rich, while they made sure they didn't lose their boss's 'merchandise'. From their bored expressions and relaxed postures, they didn't expect someone to intervene with the ransom and free the kid - they almost never did. They had guns, but weren't sharp shooters judging by the fact they were using machine guns and not pistols. Overall, Silver thought, it would be fairly easy to deal with these goons, call the police, and release the girl.

Silver pulled a phone from a hidden pocket in her suit and sent the coordinates of the warehouse to the police before swinging over the side of the roof and grabbing the windowsill. She crept through the broken window and silently landed on the warehouse floor. Her eyes were focused on the five goons before her.

"You should've picked a better hiding spot." She said aloud, her voice echoing throughout the room. Almost immediately, the three sitting goons sprung to their feet cursing, while the other two raised their guns and wildly started pointing them around the room. One of the goons that had been sitting slowly started to move his hand towards his belt, where a gleaming pistol was jammed.

"Don't move." Silver snapped. "Stand down. Or else you'll find out just what you're in for."

One of the men frowned. "You . . . you don't sound like the Batman."

"Oh, and Batman's the only person guarding Gotham?" Silver said, "If you think that, you're an idiot. Or, more of one anyway."

Another man scoffed. "Please. If you ain't the Batman, 'ow bad can you be?"

Silver grinned. Her whips shot out of her wrist grapples. "You're about to find out."

With a flick of her wrist, the machine gun in one of the goon's hand was ripped from his grasp and thrown across the room. Silver immediately advanced on the men, whips retracting into her wrist grapples as she ran towards them. She swept the legs out from underneath one man and attacked another, hitting him hard in the stomach and face before punching him under the chin, knocking him out instantly.

Machine fire started up as the man still with a gun started to fire erratically in her direction. Silver cursed and dived on top of another goon, knocking him to the ground where she finished him with a fist to the face. The man she'd knocked over, who was swaying drunkenly, lumbered towards her with outstretched arms. Silver fired her grapple at his legs and pulled him to the ground once more. Turning her head slightly, Silver swung the man still attached to her grapple into the goon behind her. The pair crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The click of a gun alerted Silver to the final goon. Without thinking, Silver shot her other grapple towards the noise. The gun was snatched from the last man's hands, and, with a quick turn and a flourish of Silver's whip, it cracked into the man's head. Blood trickled from where the gun had hit the goon's head, and the goon crumpled to the ground.

Silver didn't pause to catch her breath, instead making her way towards the bound girl. The girl was trembling even harder now, and Silver didn't blame her. After being kidnapped, bound and gagged, trapped in a warehouse with strangers who weren't that friendly, and watching a white and silver person take out said strangers . . . no doubt the kid had had a difficult day.

"Hey." Silver said softly as she knelt down by the girl. "Are you alright?"

The girl was watching her. There was no mistaking the fear in the child's green eyes.

"Sorry if I scared you. That happens sometimes. Especially when I just appear out of nowhere like I just did. Don't know how nobody notices me though. You'd think that someone dressed in white and silver would stick out in a dark room."

The fear was slowly draining from the girl's eyes as Silver spoke.

"Listen, I'm here to help you. I'm going to take these ropes off of you, and the gag too, okay?"

The girl stared at Silver for a moment before nodding. Carefully, Silver pulled the gag off the girl's head and started to untie the ropes around her body.

It was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of breathing and the rustle of ropes as Silver worked. Finally, Silver broke the silence.

"What's your name?"

The child turned her head to look at her. "M-Miranda." she said, stuttering slightly.

"Miranda. That's a nice name." It was quiet for another moment. "How old are you?"

"S-seven, ma'am."

Anger flared in Silver's mind. Who in their right mind kidnaps and terrorizes a six-year old for money?

"You don't need to call me ma'am. I don't use fancy titles like that."

The ropes slid of the girl's wrists and onto the ground. The girl stood up, stumbling slightly as she moved for the first time in what must have been hours. Silver grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.

"Easy there, careful. The police are on their way right now, they'll pick you up soon."

The girl - Miranda - looked up at Silver with wide eyes. "You're not going to stay with me?"

A pang of sorrow burst through Silver's heart. "I can't. The police are looking for me. I can't let them find me."

"Oh." The look on Miranda's face was something akin to that of a kicked puppy, and Silver almost considered staying with the girl until the police arrived. Almost.

"I have to go now, okay?" Silver said. "I won't be that far away unless something bad happens, but I have to go."

The girl stared at her with heartbreaking eyes. "Okay."

Silver let go of the girl's hand - which, until now she hadn't realized she'd been holding - and moved towards the shattered window. Distant sirens sounded nearby. It wouldn't be long until they reached the warehouse.

"Ma'am?"

Silver froze, perched on the windowsill, a breeze blowing her braid and her sash into the air. She turned to study the young girl behind her.

"Yes?" She murmured.

"What's your name?" Miranda asked.

The question was innocent, all too innocent. "I don't have one." Silver responded.

"But - but all heroes have a name."

Silver blinked in surprise and froze in place, staring at the girl standing in the middle of the warehouse with unconscious goons all around.

Hero.

Was she a hero?

Was she - under trained, fearful, and more than a little lost in the world - a hero?

The word, before now, had never really seemed to describe her. She was a vigilante, a troublemaker, a problem for the law enforcement. She moved from here to there, never really settling down, never really finding a home in the mixed up world. She had never really been a hero.

Then there was the Secret. The awful, terrifying, forbidding Secret.

'_All heroes have a name.'_

'_What's your name?'_

'_Who are you?'_

"_Silver. Silver, can you hear me?"_

_Silver, trapped inside her cell in CADMUS, turned to look at Aurum. He smiled, his mismatched eyes - one purple, one gold - flickering with weak happiness. _

"_I can hear you." She whispered, cradling her bruised and scarred arm to her chest. It hurt badly where the scientists had grabbed her wrist, and her face still burned where they had slapped her._

"_Are you alright? Doctor Rayne told me the test went badly."_

_Earlier that day, Silver had been forced to participate in a simulation of sorts. It had not gone well._

_Silver stifled a sob. "Aurum, it was horrible. It was a simulation. They . . . they . . ."_

_She gulped. "They wanted me to __kill_ _people."_

_Sadness seemed to engulf Aurum, along with a white-hot flash of anger. "Oh, Silver . . ." He whispered, snaking a hand through the bars of his cage to reach towards her. Silver reached out and grabbed his hand, holding onto it like it was a lifeline._

"_I don't want to kill people." Silver whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I can't kill. I'm not like them. I . . . I can't . . ."_

_Silver took a deep breath that shook with emotion. Her eyes closed for a moment before opening, burning with desolation. _

"_I want to be something else." Silver murmured. Her voice seemed to echo in her cage. "I don't want to be the killer. I want to be the hero."_

_The words were bitter and stark, and they were a rebellion in themselves, a rebellion against CADMUS and those CADMUS worked for. They were freedom and hope. They were words that could very easily get her killed._

_Aurum took the words in and thought them through, repeating them over and over in his mind. _

"_A hero." The words were not a question._

"_Yes._

_Silence seemed to fill the cages._

"_If you were free - if you were a hero - what would you call yourself, then?" Aurum asked quietly._

_Silver's eyes flickered over to meet his. Her eyes danced with fragments of silver and violet flames._

An answer spilled from Silver's lips before she could stop it, the same answer she had given her brother all those years ago.

"Quicksilver."

With a flick of her wrists, the newly christened hero Quicksilver disappeared from the windowsill, leaving a young girl staring after her into a star-studded sky.

**Was it decent? Was the fight scene decent? I don't know if you don't review! So please, read, favorite, follow, and review!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Ah, great, I added another disclaimer to my list. Go me!**

**Anyway, I pulled through for you guys and was able to finish this chapter with time to spare. By the way, for all those artists out there, I would love for someone to draw Quicksilver. I would draw her, but I'm a terrible artist and I can't make her look exactly the way I want. Yes, the Team will be tasked to find Quicksilver, but she won't join it immediately for her own reasons that I'm not revealing yet. All the team members are still the original team members. **

_Italics - Flashback_

"_Conversation in Italics" - Someone talking in a flashback or mental link._

**Ah, the dreaded disclaimer:**

**I do not own DC Comics or Young Justice.**

Seven-year old Miranda Evans hadn't really known what to think about heroes. Until today.

It had been three o'clock when she had been kidnapped. School had just let out, and she, with all the charm and innocence that comes with her young age, had been walking towards the school parking lot while kicking stones that had mysteriously ended up on the sidewalk when she had suddenly felt someone grab her from behind. She had tried to scream of course, but it was hopeless. A hand that smelled of sweat and dirt had covered her mouth and she had been dragged into the shadows, where a bag was shoved over her head and she was trapped in suffocating darkness.

After the bag had been shoved over her head, Miranda had tried to scream again, praying that someone, anyone, would hear her and come to her rescue. Her hopes were raised for a grand total of three seconds. Nearly the instant she started to scream, something - maybe a fist, a boot, she didn't know and likely would never find out - had smashed into her side. It had felt as if her ribs had bruised, possibly even fractured. The force of the blow and the pain and all but banished the breath from Miranda's lungs, and she had instinctively curled up into a tiny ball. She'd spent the next ten minutes wheezing, desperately trying to regain her breath after the brutal attack. Breathing, she found, was hard to do when you're trapped inside a sack with no visible way out.

She did not try to scream again.

She had stayed in the sack for a while. She hadn't liked the sack. It was dark in there, terrifyingly dark, dark as her room without a trace of light in it, darker than the night. She had started to panic in the blackness, especially when she touched something that she couldn't see and she couldn't identify just by touch. The bag was suffocating as well, causing the air inside of it to stale quickly. It started to taste of panic-induced sweat before half an hour had passed, not that Miranda knew the time. Throughout her time in the bag, she was jostled around this way and that. The bag twisted and turned with each move her captor made, and it constantly would thump against his leg, jostling her and causing her breath to hitch with each thump. Noises were dulled in the bag, but Miranda could make out noises - the sound of muted voices, the rumble of cars down a road, laughter, honking and beeping. All these noises and feelings were contained inside the bag, winding Miranda's emotions up to the point where she was about ready to keel over due to mental stress, or let out a long scream for the exact same reason.

When she had finally been released from her cloth prison, the first thing Miranda realized was that the air was fresh, and that she could really breath for what felt like the first time in hours. For a moment, she just lay on the floor, sucking in huge breaths of the clean air as if it was going to disappear in the next few hours.

Then she had realized something else. She had propped herself up on one elbow and looked around and was terrified to find that she had absolutely no idea of where she was, where her home or her parents were, or how she was supposed to get home. She was trapped in a cell-like room with no way out but a thick metal door that had been locked and wasn't going to be opened any time soon.

After that, things pretty much got worse.

Miranda, for a while, had cried her heart out, afraid that she'd never be able to go home, or see her family and friends again, that the men that had taken her would kill her and she'd die and her life would be over and that she would never be able to grow up like her parents. Rationality abandoned the seven-year old quickly. Eventually, Miranda's tears ran out and died, leaving tear tracks on her face, and she just hiccuped for a while while clutching her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth, desperately trying to find a way to make light of the situation.

Time passed at an increasingly slow rate. No one came to get Miranda. No one came through the door to either help or harm her. No heroes showed up to rescue her. No villains unlocked the door, smiling maniacally while holding some overly large torture tool. There were no sounds. No movement. Nothing.

Miranda was, despite the situation and her overwhelming fear, falling asleep from pure boredom when the door to her cell swung open and smashed into the wall. The noise jolted Miranda out of her daze and she looked up in a panic. She was greeted with a white rag that was covered in a type of liquid (she would later learn it was called chloroform) and smelled rather sweet. She fell unconscious quickly.

She had awoken, bound and gagged, in a dark and gloomy warehouse, surrounded by five men, two of which were holding machine guns and altogether didn't appear to be that friendly. They looked to be the type to glare at you if you said hello to them, or break your nose if you decided to pursue an argument while in their company. Needless to say, Miranda had been terrified by the men. The shadows and grime of the warehouse, as well as the strange noises that echoed through the empty building, didn't help to calm her. Upon waking, she had started to shake, fearing what was to come next. Every time one of the men turned to glare at her, she had shook even more, afraid that they were going to do something unspeakable to her.

Then she had come, in a blur of white and grey, with whips that seemed to dance through the air, looking for all the world like tongues of liquid silver. Her hair, done in a long braid that made its way to her hips, had been white as fallen snow, and had sliced through the air like one of her whips. She had been graceful, like a cat in a way, an acrobat in her own right. Even her dive to the ground to avoid a shower of bullets had been fluid, almost as if she had practiced it and hadn't had to improvise so she wouldn't get holes in her body. Then there was her more unnatural abilities: the uncanny way she seemed to be able to meld with the shadows, despite the color of her suit and hair, colors that should've stood out in the darkness as a white drop of paint stands out on black paper. Then there was the aura that seemed to surround her - a silvery-white glow that she seemed to emanate from her very being, though there was a possibility that it was simply an illusion caused by her suit. Her voice, too, was memorable, sly and unforgiving when she was dealing with criminals, yet somehow able to change to something warm and comforting when she was speaking to children or victims. In all ways, she was just about unforgettable.

Her name was stuck in Miranda's head, and she knew that, no matter what happened, she would never forget the name of her hero.

Yes, Miranda Evans hadn't known what to think about superheroes. Until she'd met the mystery known as Quicksilver.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Robin was perched on a billboard, looking down at an old, abandoned warehouse alongside his mentor, the Batman. From his perch, he could see the rapidly-growing forms of police cars approaching the warehouse.

He had been fooling around in the Cave with Wally - in actuality he had been snickering as he watched Wally get chased around by a furious Artemis, who he had helped Wally prank earlier - when Batman had sent a message to his wrist computer, saying that he was required in Gotham. He had left immediately. If Batman needed his help, then something serious was going on in Gotham.

As it turned out, Batman needed help with a kidnapping. Apparently, a seven-year old named Miranda Evans, whose parents were millionaires and had shares in several major businesses, had been missing since three o'clock that afternoon. At first, Robin hadn't understood why Batman needed his help with this mission, as it seemed, in superhero terms, rather simple.

Then he discovered why Batman had called him in.

As it turned out, the Evans had had, in the past, connections to CADMUS and, indirectly, the Light. One of their relatives, named Steven Rayne, had worked there as a geneticist and had assisted in several projects. He had been imprisoned after allegedly sabotaging one of these projects and had died in prison several months later of 'unknown causes'.

The project he'd sabotaged had been titled Project Looking Glass. Beyond this, Batman and Robin hadn't been able to find much else. Everything about the project, besides its name, had vanished from CADMUS files and servers. For all purposes, it never existed.

So when an unknown person had contacted the Evans shortly after their daughter's disappearance, telling them to hand over the project and all information they had on it unless they never wanted to see their daughter again (which basically meant they were going to kill her) - well, the news that A. the project actually existed, B. that people were looking for it and C. A seven-year old girl's life was being threatened because of it had left the Evans in hysterics and had sent Batman into detective mode, or as Robin had dubbed it, his 'Bat mode'.

The Evans had no idea who or what Project Looking Glass was, or what it even was supposed to do - Rayne had been rather unforthcoming in the matter while he was alive, and it didn't help that he was dead now. He had left no notes, no journals, no clues to what Project Looking Glass was or what its function was, or why he had been thrown in jail because of his sabotage of the project - which, reflecting the new light thrown on the topic and his experience with CADMUS, Robin doubted he had actually done.

So, due to a suspicious lack of information about the project, the Dynamic Duo had chosen to focus their efforts on finding the kidnapped Miranda Evans and her kidnapper. They had followed a trail of telephone calls, emails, and cash - a whole lot of it - to his warehouse, hoping that the information could be found here or tracked to another destination, or at the very least Miranda Evans would be here, safe and sound, though terrified.

Batman turned ever so slightly to his protege and gave him a miniscule nod. As soon as the tiny gesture had been given, the pair silently leapt into the air and grappled to a shattered window sill, where they landed soundlessly.

What Robin had expected was the typical scene of the captive, bound and gagged, sitting in the corner with a thug or two guarding them while several other men stood around, waiting for a call from their boss or someone else as they waited for instructions from one of their superiors.

What he did not expect was to see five thugs, all in various states of unconsciousness, stretched out in the middle of the floor, some with a splatter of blood coating their heads where something heavy had smashed into their skulls, and the seven-year old captive free from any bonds and happily playing with an iPhone she had discovered in one of their pockets while sitting on a barrel in the warehouse's center, kicking her legs back and forth with childish glee.

Robin stared into the warehouse and could only think of one thing he could say. "What the . . ."

The child's head whipped up from the bright screen in front of her. At first she simply stared at Robin and Batman, who was searching the room for any evidence to who might've dealt with the thugs. It definitely wasn't the seven-year old. Then the girl's eyes grew wide, and the phone slipped from her grasp.

"Oh my gosh." she whispered, staring at the pair. "You . . ." she said, pointing, "You're Batman!"

Batman gave a brief nod in answer.

"And you're Robin!" The girl exclaimed, her finger swerving to point at the Boy Wonder. Robin gave a slight bow and a grin to the girl, who was starstruck by this point and was staring at them both with eyes the size of dinner plates.

"Whoa . . ." she breathed.

Batman, with all his tact and grace, cut straight to the point. "Are you Miranda Evans?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, yea, that's me." The girl said, emerging from her daze.

Batman was silent for a moment, his eyes once again sweeping over the crumpled forms of the criminals.

"Who did this?" he said, gesturing to the thugs laid out across the floor. The girl stared at the criminals for a moment. Then, rather unexpectedly, a grin spread across her face.

"Oh, that was Quicksilver." she said happily, starting to kick her feet once again. Robin blinked at the name.

"Quicksilver?" Batman growled, his question mirroring Robin's.

"Yup. She was here a couple of minutes ago." the child said. Her smile was starting to disturb Robin a little. "She came in through the window, I think. I don't really know. I didn't see her come in, which doesn't make sense, cause she was really bright, like she seemed to glow-"

"Your point?" Batman cut the girl off.

"Oh, right. Anyway, she appeared and she fought all of them and knocked them all out. Then she untied me and took that cloth out of my mouth." the girl said, pointing to a discarded pile of rope in the corner. "Then she had to leave cause the police don't like her." A thought struck the child, and she frowned. "Didn't you see her? She was white and silver, and she had whips of liquid silver, and her name is Quicksilver."

The the seven-year old's smile was really getting onto Robin's nerves. "She was white and silver and had whips of liquid silver?" He repeated.

"Yup!" The girl grinned, eyes shining innocently at him. "And her name is Quicksilver."

The description of the fictional vigilante was vague, and, as it was coming from a young girl, not very believable by any standards. Before Batman or Robin could say another word on the subject, the girl got to her feet. "Are you going to take me home now?" she asked.

"Um, yea." Robin said, wondering if he could get her to talk more about this so-called vigilante. As if on cue, police cars rolled to a stop outside the warehouse. "Here, I'll take you down to the police and they'll take you home, okay?"

The girl grinned. "Okay." She started to walk towards a dilapidated old door that led to the staircase. Robin looked to his mentor, shrugged, and started to herd the child down the stairs, considering the mystery of what might end up being a new superhero.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Unbeknownst to the Dynamic Duo, the vigilante that saved Miranda Evans was sitting on the very billboard they had abandoned minutes ago and was watching their interactions with the seven-year old with interest. She would've abandoned the area as soon as she had dealt with the kidnappers and untied the girl, but she had promised her that she wouldn't be that far away in case something happened. Besides, she had a problem with her conscience at time, as well as her curiosity.

It went without saying that there was no one as curious as the Dark Knight and the Boy Wonder.

Quicksilver tilted her head to the side, studying the Batman as he in turn studied the men she had taken down not ten minutes ago. For a moment, she considered whether or not she should reveal herself to the Dark Knight - if only to prove her existence if all else failed - but squashed the idea near instantly. Her Secret would not allow it. If they learned of the Secret, then she feared what would happen to her.

They could handle Project Krypton, or Superboy, as she thought he was going by now. He hadn't been fully programed, hadn't been programmed like she had been.

He was a weapon. She . . . she was something else entirely.

Behind the mask, Quicksilver's eyes glittered with sadness as she watched Robin lead Miranda down the stairs to where police cars were waiting. As soon as the door closed behind Robin, Batman started to search the warehouse. Quicksilver watched him search for a moment before turning her eyes to where the police stood, one with a microphone in hand yelling for the thugs to let the child go. Eventually, the door in front of the police opened, and some tensed and raised their guns in fear, fear that had been born and bred in them because this was Gotham. Then, as they realized it was the missing child and Robin, they relaxed and some started to clap. She watched as some of the police led Miranda into a waiting car while Robin spoke to the police commissioner, James Gordon. She didn't need to hear what they were talking about to know the subject. She had heard Miranda talk about her to Robin and Batman.

After a minute or two, the conversation between the pair finished up and Robin turned to head back inside the warehouse while Gordon returned to his car. By this point, most of the police had already left, Miranda in tow. No doubt they would take her home or to police headquarters.

Quicksilver watched Robin as he went to re-enter the warehouse, and wondered whether or not it was time to take her leave.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Robin was heading back into the warehouse to help Batman search for evidence when a flash of white in the otherwise grey-black background of Gotham caught his eye.

He blinked as he turned to look at where he had seen the color, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

They weren't.

Sitting on the billboard that he and Batman and been crouching on moments ago was a figure dressed in white and grey.

"_Didn't you see her? She was white and silver, and she had whips of liquid silver, and her name is Quicksilver."_

Robin's eyes grew wide as he stared at the vigilante. The girl hadn't been lying. Her white hair glowed silver in the dull moonlight, and her suit seemed to glow in the darkness. Which led him to ponder on how he hadn't seen her arrive.

There was one thing for certain though. The newspaper he'd looked through earlier at the cafe with Barbara had been right. There was a new vigilante in Gotham.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Quicksilver nearly bolted off the side of the billboard when she realized that Robin was looking straight at her, and that he could see her.

"Shit." She swore.

She really didn't feel like talking to the Batman. Or the Boy Wonder. In fact, she would rather avoid them at all costs.

"Stupid conscience, making me stay here. Should've known they would see me." Quicksilver stewed for a moment before registering that Robin was still watching her. Her eyes flickered down to look at him.

For a moment, they just watched each other, wondering if the other was going to make a move. Finally, Quicksilver did the only thing she could think of doing.

She nodded to him, thanking him for helping the girl, before leaving off the side of the billboard and swinging away to other parts of the city.

In the end, Quicksilver didn't really care where she was going and ended up on the gargoyle of an old church, where she paused to catch her breath.

"Great." she murmured to the wind, "Just great. First the newspaper, now Robin, next its going to be Batman and a showdown and the Justice League and truth serum and I'll get tossed in jail and rescued by the Light because they can't leave me alone either."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the church wall.

"I have some serious problems with the world."

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